More Than I Was Expecting
by my own patronus
Summary: Fill for Blangst Prompt of the Day #190. When one of Blaine's attackers from the Sadie Hawkins incident transfers to McKinley and auditions for the glee club, how will he react? Set at the beginning of season 3, warnings for violence and language. One Shot.


Fill for Blangst Prompt of the Day #190

Prompt: One of the boys who was involved in the Sadie Hawkins attack was dragged along by his friends. He didn't want to hurt the two boys but once it got started it completely spun out of control. Ever since he's been completely burdened with guilt and is thrilled when his dad gets a new job because it means he can start over at a new school. After joining McKinley he decides to audition for the Glee Club. Stunned when he sees Blaine he tries begging for forgiveness but Blaine is not so forgiving.

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Warnings: violence, homophobia and coarse language

All Glee related things belong to Ryan Murphy and co.

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**Friday, November 13, 2009, 11:54 pm.**

Of course it had to be Friday the thirteenth. How appropriate. How unlucky.

How selfish was he to be thinking _he _was the unlucky one when there were two boys being rushed off to the hospital in ambulances, and it was his fault?

Well, not totally his fault. He hadn't wanted to. But suddenly, he was in the middle of it all, holding the one boy's arms behind his back as Mike threw punch after punch at the poor boy's torso.

It had all started out so good.

**9 pm.**

Andrew walked into the dance with Cassie, his date, and a group of their friends: Mike and Jessica, and Tommy and Elise. They stood around talking, drinking punch, and messing around for a while, swaying to the music playing over the speakers. After a while Mike jabbed Andrew sharply in the ribs.

"What?" he hissed, looking over at his friend.

"Look," Mike responded, voiced tinged with disgust. He pointed over to a couple that had just entered the gym. They looked nervous, and rightly so, considering the looks that Mike and Tommy were sending their way.

It was two boys. Their hands hovered near each other, but never touched. One was tall, blonde, and smiling nervously. The other was shorter, had a mess of dark curls, and he just looked so surprised that he was actually there. _Harding and Anderson_, Andrew remembered vaguely. He had seen them in the halls and had joined in the teasing on occasion. The two gay kids. It didn't bother him, exactly, but he didn't really get it – he didn't get the whole 'being gay' thing. Sometimes, he wondered nervously if either of them was interested in him or any of the other guys, but mostly he ignored them. He did have a steady girlfriend after all.

Andrew tuned back in to Mike and Tommy's conversation. The boys were cracking jokes about the 'fags'. "I wonder which one bottoms?" Tommy asked crudely, while Mike laughed.

"It's gotta be Anderson, man, he's so scrawny, I'm sure he loves taking it up the ass!"

**11:20 pm.**

When the dance let out, Andrew walked Cassie over to a bench so the group could wait to be picked up by Mike's mother. The three girls fell into an easy conversation about the dance drama – who came with who, who had worn which dress, who left with someone different. Mike called Andrew and Tommy over to his side.

"Just look at the two little homos, sitting there and spreading their disgusting disease all over the place. It's bad enough that they make us see it at school, but now they've got to rub it in our faces at the dances too?"

"Come on, Mike, it's a school dance, and they weren't bothering you," Andrew protested weakly.

"Their existence pisses me the fuck off," Mike shot back, and Andrew began to wonder if maybe Mike had had a bit more to drink than the rest of them. He had stopped drinking the punch pretty early on – he knew it would be spiked by the end of the evening, but maybe Mike was wasted.

"Let's go teach them a lesson."

Mike and Tommy led the way over to where the two boys sat on the curb. They were a safe distance from the school, obviously trying not to stand out.

Before he knew what was happening, Mike had aimed a kick at one of them, while Tommy punched the other squarely in the face.

Andrew was frozen, rooted to the spot. "Get in here, man, show these fags that they can't just go spreading their freak all over," Mike called over his shoulder.

For a brief moment, Andrew caught a hazel eye, and felt something inside him tell him to run the other way. But then he heard his friends' voices, and he joined in.

**11:48 pm.**

It had barely lasted any time at all. But when Andrew, Mike, and Tommy had walked away, the two boys were lying on the ground. One was unconscious. The other was close. He was weakly moaning and a thin trickle of blood leaked from one of his many cuts. The sight was sickening.

Mike's mother arrived a moment later, and they left the parking lot just as a pair of ambulances arrived on the scene.

At least he had done something right.

See, in the moments between leaving the two boys for dead and hopping into Mike's mother's minivan, Andrew had made a decision. He'd pulled out his phone, and made a quick, hushed call.

"These two boys – they were beaten up at the dance at Truman High School in Westerville. They're in the parking lot by the gym and it looks bad."

That was all he said before he hung up, but it had been enough.

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**Friday, May 13, 2011, 5:30 pm.**

Andrew MacDaniel was, oddly enough, not upset by the news his father had just delivered.

Mr. MacDaniel had been given a promotion at work – he was now managing an entire branch of the bank, the new one they were opening in Lima – and the family was moving.

Of course, Andrew didn't have to switch schools. He could have asked to stay at the same school for his senior year, but he'd been wanting a change.

After the incident his sophomore year, a lot of things had changed. He'd been feared and revered as he walked through Truman's halls. Suddenly, upperclassmen he didn't know were patting him on the back and congratulating him on 'chasing out the fags'. It didn't feel like something he should be congratulated for, but he liked the popularity. And for a while, he'd tried to maintain the new image – he joined Mike, Tommy, and others in making like hell for the dorks, dweebs, losers, and nerds. But soon, his guilt had started to eat away at him from the inside.

He knew he was actually very lucky – that that Friday the thirteenth had been his lucky day. He could have very well been sent to juvie for beating up those two boys. But there were no witnesses willing to come forward, besides the two boys, and they weren't totally reliable due to the extent of the brain injuries (concussions and cracked skulls). Neither boy had pressed charges. One had moved away right after the incident, the other had switched school. Andrew had even seen him once or twice since, always from a distance, in the grocery store.

He and Cassie broke up the summer before junior year, and he stopped hanging out with most of his old friends. He joined the men's chorus at school and formed a band with some of his new friends.

They were friends that he could still see on the weekends. Plus, now they had a larger audience – maybe he could get kids at his new school to come to some of his gigs.

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**Tuesday, September 6, 2011, 2:45 pm.**

So the new school wasn't exactly the greatest, but it was a new start. There was no men's chorus, but there was a glee club that seemed interesting – they were really good, judging by their performance at lunch (even if it did spark a food fight). There was an obvious social hierarchy at the school – much like at Truman – but he figured that he could easily slip in near the top, like he had been at Truman, even after he'd stopped hanging out with Mike. He wasn't stupid, he was moderately athletic, and he was pretty funny. Senior year wouldn't suck if he had any say in it.

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**Tuesday, September 13, 2011, 2:45 pm.**

Andrew saw the sign on the bulletin board announcing the auditions for New Directions after school, and recklessly decided to go. He'd heard enough in his first week to know that joining glee club was worse than social suicide, but he decided to at least try it out.

Inevitably, he found himself outside the choir room. He peeked in the window, and saw a group of teens laughing and dancing with each other. It looked like fun.

"Can I help you?" a voice asked from his shoulder.

Andrew jumped slightly, and turned around. Standing next to him, holding a large sheaf of sheet music, stood the Spanish teacher.

"Yes, I'm, uh, I'm thinking about auditioning for glee club."

"Great! We're always happy to welcome new members," the teacher replied. "I'm Mr. Schuester, the director of the New Directions. And you are...?"

"Andrew MacDaniel."

"Well, it's great to meet you, Andrew. Do you have anything prepared to sing."

Andrew nodded his head.

"Great. Come on in, and we can start with your audition."

Andrew followed the man in, but waited near the door while he spoke to the group.

"Alright guys, before we get started today, we have a new member! Andrew, why don't you take a place here and start whenever you're ready."

"No."

Andrew's head shot up at the word, as did those of the students in the room. Everyone looked around to find the culprit. Most eyes settled on a kid sitting near the back. His dark hair was gelled down and he wore an extremely preppy outfit. He was clutching the hand of the boy next to him. But what stood out most to Andrew were his eyes … they looked so familiar.

"Um, Blaine, we have to let everyone audition," Mr. Schuester said awkwardly.

"No. Not him."

Andrew noticed that the boy was shaking slightly. And suddenly, all the pieces clicked together.

"Anderson?" he asked quietly.

Blaine stood and glared down at Andrew. "Get out of here."

"Look, man, I am so sorry about that. About everything. I never meant to let it all get so out of control - "

"You're sorry? Wow, thanks so much, Andrew, that makes everything better," Blaine responded bitterly.

The other glee club members looked on in confusion. "What's going on, Blaine?" the boy sitting next to him – his _boyfriend_, Andrew guessed – asked in concern.

"Nothing. Nothing is going on. Andrew is just leaving."

"Please, just let me apologize, and then I'll go, okay?" Andrew asked. "I have never regretted anything more than that night, okay? I really didn't want to do it, but Mike just – he pulled me in, and I was too scared and weak to say no to him. But I tried to talk him out of it before! And I called 911! After – when Mike was finished and we were going back to the car, I was the one who called the police! Please, I'm so sorry!"

There was silence in the choir room. Blaine was still glaring down at the boy in front of him. The last time he'd seen Andrew was when the boy had been punching him, kicking him, beating him until he was nothing more than a broken mess on the cold concrete. And now he was in McKinley, trying to apologize for ruining Blaine's life?

"What are you even doing here?" The words still sound harsh, but they're not telling him to leave, so Andrew hopes that he still has a chance.

"Dad got a new job, family moved. I wanted to get away from that school – too many bad memories."

That was probably the wrong thing to say. Blaine just laughed harshly. "Yes, I'm sure that Truman was just a pit of bad memories for you, what with everyone throwing you dirty looks wherever you walked and calling you every bad name they can think of and beating you up for being who you are – oh wait, that wasn't you. You were the one _doing_ all that. You were making _my _life hell."

"Blaine -" and that was the first time Andrew had ever said the other boy's name, "I've said I'm sorry. I wish I could go back and change the past, but I can't. What more do you want me to do?"

"Just leave."

Andrew looked sadly up at the younger boy, but said nothing as he turned to go.

"Wait," that was a new voice. "What just happened?"

Andrew turned around to see the speaker, a tall boy with brown hair.

"I think we'd all like to know that," Mr. Schuester added.

"I think it should be up to Ander- _Blaine –_ if he wants to tell you," Andrew said quietly. "I'm really sorry, Blaine."

With that, Andrew walked out the door.

**3:35 pm.**

The choir room was silent for a moment, until Finn turned on Blaine.

"What the hell, man? We need new members! Just because you want to keep all the solos for yourself doesn't mean you get to turn people away without giving them a chance!"

"He used up his chance two years ago," Blaine said quietly. "He used it up when I begged him to stop and he kicked me in the gut. He used it up when he and his friends decided that my friend and I were 'too gay' for their liking and beat us up outside of our school dance. He used it up when I ended up unconscious for three days with more broken bones than I could name. He used it up when he chased us away."

Blaine's speech left the choir room in silence. Even Kurt was sitting stunned, even though he'd heard the story.

Blaine walked to the door and stormed out of the room, the slam shaking everyone to the core.

**4:05 pm.**

Blaine walked into the Lima Bean and ordered his usual, taking residence in a table that was mostly hidden in shadows.

When he felt, rather than saw, a presence above him, he looked up with a smile, hoping to see Kurt. The smile instantly fell from his face when he recognized the intruder.

"I don't really have anything else to say to you, Andrew."

"I just want you to know that I have never regretted anything more. I stopped hanging out with Mike and Tommy and those other guys. I tried to change my life. I came to Lima because I thought it would be great to have a fresh start. And I'd really love it if you'd consider giving me a second chance. I know you owe me nothing, and you have no reason to believe me. But, please, consider it. And all your friends can beat me up if I ever say anything even remotely offensive."

Blaine looked down at his coffee for so long that Andrew thought he had ignored him. Just as Andrew was about to walk away, Blaine spoke up.

"Come to glee club tomorrow afternoon. But you better be freaking amazing, or you won't have a chance of getting in."

Andrew's face broke into a smile.

"But," Blaine continued, "this doesn't mean I forgive you. Think of this as a probationary period. We don't have to talk, be nice to each other or acknowledge each other's presences. And if you seem to really have reformed, then maybe I'll be able to move on. But I can't forgive you for what you did to me."

"That's more than I was expecting, Blaine. Thank you so much."


End file.
